Mumblings of an Old Man

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Two apologies

One: I realize that my last post was a bit creepy. I refer of course to my use of the word "fulsome", which should never be used at any time for any reason.Two: I completely missed posting my Friday video, which I know is the only reason anyone puts up with my inane mumblings.

This past week was a busy one. Jules and I rented a car (a cute, blue, Kia Rio) and high-tailed it to Quebec City, which for some reason, the inhabitants refer to simply as "Kebec". It was a pretty fabulous week. Aside from our first night's dinner -- it was late and we didn't have time to search out a proper, non-tourist restaurant -- the food was excellent if a bit rich. And our trip timing could scarcely be better. The day we eventually made our way to two museums happened to be the "International Day of Museums", and thus, free. We go to the Fort Museum just in time for their entertaining sound and light show, highlighting the battles of Quebec in a way apparently inspired by the sound and light shows done with dioramas depicting the Civil War down South. We arrive at another museum just in time to don 3-D glasses for a strange fictional cultural film. We put off a tour of the Citadel until arriving on a morning punctuated by cannon blasts. It was the anniversary of the Patriotes' revolt. It was pretty much all like that. And a horse carriage ride. And a ghost tour. And more. The hotel room was a bit small, only one of two rooms on the upper, obviously attic, floor (featuring a slanted bit of low ceiling I dubbed "le bonk"), but it was clean and comfy. The weather was a bit cold, but I had brought appropriate garb.

I suppose I should also add that our initial reason for going was to attend Jules' high school reunion, which provided countless opportunities for riffing on a movie that Jules can actually quote -- Grosse Point Blank. Despite rather lackluster attendance from her year -- it was a cumulative meet -- a good time was had.

As a vacation, it was pretty damn good. The history was tangible and educational -- I've finally learned the strategic function of earthen ramparts -- and the food was fantastic -- we ate caribou and stag, both in fondue and in St. Jean Lac tourtière; lamb, lobster, and sugar pie.

I hadn't been quite sure what to expect of Quebec City. From what I managed to pick up from my high school history classes, I expected it to look pretty much like this. So if you haven't been, even these descriptions may not evoke the proper image. So for your tardy Friday video, here. Quebec City celebrating its 400th is, in every way, exactly like this. But with tourtière.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Elliot-toe and the Plot

So my parents are in this weekend. Or rather, a four-day extended weekend. Julie and I are taking Monday and Tuesday off, as it's a long drive from Winnipeg and we don't get to see them very often.

In our wanderings today, having taken a quick tour of the National Art Gallery, we found ourselves in the Byward Market and decided to stay for dinner. We settled at the Keg, and before long, we noted our longtime traveling nemesis, Elliot-toe, arriving with an unknown older gentleman. We waved somewhat frantically and he eventually acknowledged us, and came over to meet my parents. He identified his companion as blood relation and we insisted on meeting the Elliott broodle-kin.

Well, says the father of Elliot-toe, I don't know you, but I know Julie from Elliott's blog.

...

Perhaps this is a good time to note that as long as I've known Elliott, Julie and I have been together. And while we're not exactly inseparable, the only times we have visited with Elliott, sometimes from afar, sometimes not, we have both been present. Yet somehow photos of Julie have made their way into Elliott's blog with relative frequency while photos of yours truly have not.

Naturally, I take it upon myself to correct the situation.

Here I am inserting myself into Elliott's life. Notice the lack of photoshop. And awareness of those involved. I'd like to think that future such stalkings photo ops will eventually create a fulsome web record of goings on in our inextricably intertwined lives. I have already employed Simon as spy and possible assassin (as required). Yes, the future is bright, indeed.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Early Friday

Ok, so we're leaving for Quebec City on Thurs, so I have to post an early Friday video. But I'll just date it as Friday and no one will be the wiser. (You don't actually read these things, do you?) This one is for Jules.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

"Strategic" being a euphemism

I read this yesterday, which more than likely resulted in the following dream. It's been a long time. Feels like the 80's again.

Jules and I were living in Winnipeg. It was winter. Jules was busy with another urgent errand. I made my way over to my sister Keri's house on a kind of flatbed of rollers with a handle and motor. A kind of CAT. Difficult to use. Anyway, time was ticking. About 2 hours to go before Winnipeg would be hit by a nuclear strike (never unreasonable, having a CFB), along with several other Canadian cities.

I eventually arrived. I recall the time remaining being an hour and two minutes. My niece Danielle and a girl friend of hers answered the door. I said something like "Sorry to disappoint you" (I think they were expecting a non-relative). I believe my sister Kathy was there, also. I said to Keri that we have to get out of here. What are her plans? She said she was going to install a keypad lock on the car. I said I thought that was a good idea, thinking of the likely ensuing chaos, but was there time?

I think I may have compromised the dream when I realized that my plan to travel west in the mountains lacked a certain, shall we say, prairie element. I woke and wrote the whole thing down.

Later I slept again and entered a later part of the dream. Julie was at a nearby archipelago with other survivors. I had stopped at one of several piles of possessions that had been dumped along the way. One of my boxes was here. I started going through it, grabbing mostly wooden carvings from Indonesia from my trip several years ago. Then I made my way forward, doing this jump and glide thing that I do sometimes in dreams. Not quite flying. Then I reached the area where Julie was, and my little holocaust dream, part ii, ended.